


Strain

by orphan_account



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M, Viewer's Discretion is Advised, dark themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-06-05 14:48:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15173021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Alexandria wins the war. In return for Negan's cooperation, all Negan wants is Rick in order to teach him a lesson. Carl is staunchly apathetic. As it turns out - a lot of people want to teach Rick a lesson.Or : The bleak one where no one understands or appreciates Rick until it's almost too late. The Anderson's don't die before Negan arrives, and Ron takes his pound of flesh from Rick





	1. Carl

**Author's Note:**

> Reposted and Edited.

 

Laundy is amazing and has done with amazing artwork for this fic...please check out Laundy's tumblr, it's a gold mine!!!

 

http://laundy.tumblr.com/

 (ps, this is a scene from Chapter Two - coming soon!)

  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ron was weak, twisted and entitled yes but weak. Carl could see it in the way he shook when he held a gun, the way his eyes glazed in fear when he saw a walker close up, even in the way he clung to Enid - pressing himself into her presence, desperate and frenzied.

Sometimes, he forgot Ron had anything to hold a grudge against at all, so little did Pete Anderson's life mean to Carl. The man hardly crossed his thoughts except in the context of his Dad - whose guilt seemed heavy and nagging and completely unnecessary.

Once, Carl had traced a likeness between father and son, like they were insects to be dissected through his withering gaze. Other days Carl had trouble remembering the man had ever existed.

That was his biggest mistake.

Ron was childish and immature, kept his father's old nudie magazines under his mattress and gossiped for hours, cutting down anyone who he perceived to have slighted him. There was a vindictive streak in him that not even his little brother escaped.

He was too much like his father.

 

 

 

Carl's second biggest mistake was the way he looked at his Father. Like nothing could break him anymore. Once Rick had gained Carl's trust again after the Governor it had taken hold, grew into a faith so big Carl didn't feel like his body could contain it.

Rick lost a little bit of his shine after Negan.

Once Carl had seen him in the dirt, blood smudged as he blabbered and cried, tears and snot spread across his face it dimmed. When Negan slapped Rick across the face Carl felt it like a shock wave through his body. Rick's humiliation caused a cold ball to form in Carl's stomach.

He knew his Dad could be better though, if he just _would_ be.

And Carl had been the one on the ground so what excuse did he have? Rick had cowered like a dog, so afraid to lose. Lose Carl, lose more, lose what else Carl didn't know. He'd already lost his self respect, and very nearly Carl's respect. Certainly he had lost almost the whole of Alexandria's.

It was a choice. Rick had chosen it. He wouldn't have broke, if he hadn't been so complicit against the tyrant's assault. Carl was sure of it. Thinking of it always made Carl's stomach roil.

Carl pushed at him and pushed at him until his Dad did as he pleased. Turned as cold and hard as he dared. Trying so very hard to live up to Carl's expectations. Carl played off the fact that he was trying to be the Father his boy needed and felt if Rick had been any kind of father at all he shouldn't have had to.

Carl saw it in his eyes though when Negan was going to kill Carl, and Carl had been proud of Rick then, but the complete deadness in Rick's eyes turned Carl off of the feeling.

They survived, had won, but Carl couldn't celebrate.

Rick's eyes didn't change back.

 

 

 

Ron was Carl's age, actually seven months younger. He was always so flushed with hormones and anger. He talked about sex frequently, and his obsession with Enid. Carl listened, a little curious, trying to experience the normality he had missed out on, if only to dissect it and disseminate it into something useful. It wasn't really interesting.

It wasn't that Carl wasn't interested in sex but the magazines Ron had often had violent scenes and the vulgar way he talked about Enid and other women around Alexandria grated on Carl. He'd never heard his father talk like that.

The images, while arousing, were deviant and Carl found his imagination was much better equipped for his needs.

In fact the sexually explicit pictures bordering on violence hearkened back to _that_ day. It was unpleasant to think about. He declined the magazine Ron had offered.

Carl couldn't deny a swell of pride rose in his chest, thinking of that day too, of his Dad's gore slicked face. He didn't think about the way his eyes went vacant afterwards. The way he would duck his head and the sick feelings that bubbled up from Rick's chest to show on his face.

Put frankly, he didn't think about the personal cost. Carl knew first hand what it was like to kill someone. The first time he had been proud, strangely happy and triumphant. Slowly he had sunk into a wrongness, whole being revolting against the act. He'd been sick, and punch drunk. Eventually, though, Carl had learned to mute it. The vicious satisfaction wasn't as sharp but the emotional hangover became nearly non existent.

It never occurred to him that Rick couldn't do the same.

 

 

 

Negan couldn't leave his Dad alone. He was taunting at the gate, capturing people, sending Rick little messages and pillaging supplies.

Daryl was in charge - by way of popular vote - and still, Negan went straight for Rick - always. A sick excitement in his eyes, a challenge. When Rick remained docile all it did was whip Negan into a fervor. He began to up his antes.

Carl didn't like how his Dad was. Like a ghost, flitting through routines, life drained. He'd turned cold, like Carl wanted but not hard like he should. He was transparent - as if Carl had only just to touch him and his hand would sink through.

It wasn't what Carl wanted at all. He didn't understand it.

It was Dwight, who had defected to their side, and Daryl of all people who suggested they make peace with Negan.

"You fucked up our compound. Lost us half our people. How are you going to make up for it?" Negan shouted over the gate, grin mad. He still had Eugene, a heavy bargaining chip after Negan had made proper use of his intelligence. Rick didn't, Alexandrians whispered behind his back, he should have but he didn't.

"You won't be in charge anymore." Daryl stated, first thing, "but your people are welcome to join us. You can live outside the gate, close by."

"I think we both know I don't really fucking have a choice."

There were children with Negan, in his trucks.

"Our community, our rules." Daryl said pointedly.

Negan growled darkly.

"Okay, one condition. I want that fucker Rick."

"He's yours!" one of the Alexandrians yelled over the gate and a few others murmured in agreement. Daryl's hard look made him shut his mouth.

"You're a democracy, right?" Negan spitted, "Fucking vote on it."

 

 

 

Carl wasn't allowed at the negotiating table.

Carol and Daryl took to the room alone. Rick was allowed in only as a courtesy. Still, it's not as if Carl didn't hear every word from the other side of the door. Negan came in alone, and he could have brought his men - had maybe ten left - but he didn't.

Carl saw it unfold like a vision in his mind's eye - Rick staring dead at the wall, silent. Negan leaning over the table, spitting and angry. Daryl and Carol's resignation.

Alexandria had voted against Rick.

"You won't kill him." Carol had said lowly.

"Okay." Negan agreed.

"You're not going to take his hands, or any other of his limbs." Daryl's voice was gravelly.

"Okay."

"You will not maim him, torture - "

"Now hold the fuck up sweetheart." Negan's voice had been like the sharp edge of a knife, "I'll agree to no permanent damage."

There had been a short pause and Carl had assumed they were nodding.

"No rape. No coercion." Carol said shortly.

"You have to feed him. Give him clothes and water, let him bathe." Daryl added.

The divide between Carol and Daryl - and their respective worries - were clear. Negan was capable of everything they implied probably.

It didn't worry Carl.

"Don't worry," Negan spitted out, sarcastic and bitter, "I take good care of my pets."

 

 

 

A blatant indication had been Ron's enthusiasm on a new topic. Some Alexandrians had been calling it 'The Honeymoon Phase'.

"What do you think he's doing to your dad?" Ron had asked, just bordering on being offensive.

"I don't know."

"Do you think he's making him cry?" The words had caused something to rise up in Carl at that. Faded tears of bound women on pages were called unbidden in his mind, and he pushed it back - suddenly he'd been angry. That old familiar anger he'd always had in the face of his father's weakness. It made him grit his teeth. Ron had noticed right away.

Carl distinctly remembered thinking his Dad probably _was_ crying out there, and given he had known the limitations of the hand over, anger and annoyance itched heavily under his skin. Rick didn't have it bad.

"I don't want to talk about him." Really, Carl hadn't even wanted to think about him. At the time, he had thought he didn't want to think about him ever again.

It had only been a week before Carl caught Ron as he talked lowly in a circle with a group of the other boys.

"Did you hear him scream?" One of them said, conspiratorially.

"I bet he's fucking him." Ron said, low, and there had been something in his eyes when he said it.

The thought had been preposterous, and Carl had felt no one really understood Negan after all, so he'd only let himself feel a vague annoyance at their gossip.

The sight of Carl had scattered them.

Carl should have paid more attention.

 

 

 

Negan was generous enough to schedule a visitation two weeks in. Carl brought Judith, and he hadn't really even wanted to go himself. Didn't want to see Rick, because Carl had felt he knew what kind of mess he'd see. Hated Rick for always cracking.

It hadn't been like Carl expected, Rick didn't want to see them either. He sat stiffly on his chair, silent and unmoving.

He couldn't meet Carl's eyes and Carl had thought 'good'. The hug he had given Judy was perfunctory, she had steered their entire interaction. Carl knew she deserved better, they both did.

Rick didn't say anything at all. Carl had seen the bruises that spilled out of his collar, the cuffs of his shirt and he had thought 'good'.

It looked like Negan had been choking him, throat colorful with the rainbow of hard touch.

Yet he was whole.

"I'll bring Judy for awhile, until she forgets about you."

Carl had said, because Judith didn't need a dead weight in her life.

"You'll see me until then."

He'd said that too, because he didn't need a dead weight in his life either.

 

 

 

Ron avoided Carl. If he had been afraid of Carl mentioning last time, he shouldn't have been. Carl couldn't have cared less.

The other boys made a sport of out it. Negan's house - and the home had originally been inside Alexandria but had been partitioned off - was to the West. The fence was a short fifteen feet away. They had gathered to hear the screams.

There weren't any screams, but there were noises. Carl felt them worse than screams. He'd come to appear unaffected.

The boys had even brought out crates and a ladder to peer over the fence.

It was like clock work, they said. Rick's daily beating. Sometimes, after Negan had caught sight of them, he'd even let them watch.

It was one of those times.

Carl felt the blood drain from his face as Negan appeared at the front door and dragged Rick through it, steeled himself for the disgrace his father was about to make of himself.

"Look Rick, you have some fans." Negan said, tossing him easily in the space between the yard and the fence.

Rick's palms scraped as he braced himself against the ground. Rick pushed his arms up a little, coughed up blood, eyes glued firmly to the ground. Negan caught Carl's gaze and his movements stuttered for a moment.

Then Negan put his boot on Rick's back and slowly ground him down into the dirt.

He reached down then, pushed Rick's face against the ground like he was training a bad dog that had made a mess.

"Eat a mouthful of dirt and I'll let you back up." The other boys wanted to cheer he could tell, but instead they looked uncertainly at Carl.

Carl's face had burned, even as he was sure Rick would do it. He viciously hated Rick at that moment.

Rick had coughed wetly and turned his face to the side. Negan scooped up a chunk of dirt. Ron whooped loudly at that and it was like a dam had broke. The other boys followed suit, jeering. But Rick wouldn't open his mouth.

Negan sat on Rick's chest, wrapped a hand around Rick's throat until he did. As he gasped for breath Negan lodged the large chunk of wet earth into his mouth.

The ensuing coughing and wheezing sounded painful. Carl turned away. It was around that moment that Carl's feelings began to change. A flash of insight had hit him as he realized he couldn't watch anymore.

Like he had come up against a wall inside of himself, impenetrable and concrete.

It had also been the first time he heard his Dad's voice in a month.

"Look," Negan had reached down to grasp Rick's hair, tilt his head up. "Carl's come to watch."

"No." The word sounded strangled, inhuman.

Their gazes had locked. Carl had known they were being watched, that the other boys were evaluating his every expression, but nothing had mattered but his Dad's bright blue eyes on his. It had felt like a hatchet to his heart, when Rick had looked away.

 

 

 

Carl put it out of his mind as much as he could, but his mind kept going back to it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Negan

 

 

 

 

They delivered Rick to his house. A real barbie dream home Negan had thought bitterly, choking up. Daryl had stood behind Rick, sullen and angry, as Negan perused the space and Negan had whistled lowly in his throat.

"Don't even have him on a leash." Negan sneered.

"You know the rules." Daryl said shortly and left without a backward glance at Rick. Negan felt that the man couldn't, could probably barely bring himself to leave Rick at all.

Once they were alone the first thing Negan had done was grab Rick gently by the elbow and lead him over to the basement door.

"Two bedroom, I didn't really need a two bedroom." He said, conversationally.

Negan yanked Rick's right hand up, placed his pinkie and ring finger across the inside frame of the door. He crowded Rick against the wall to get better leverage, pressed heavily into him.

He slammed the door once and Rick cried out, quiet. It wasn't enough, too soft, to break the fingers. Rick's arm was shaking, trying to pull back, and Negan had to hold his wrist just there, against the edge of the frame, to keep him steady. On the second slam his fingers gave a little more.

"I know, you felt I broke the rules. I'm not supposed to cause permanent damage. Come here so I can fix it for you." Negan said as he crossed the room, sat on the arm of the couch and waited for Rick.

Rick had come, placed his upturned palm in Negan's outstretched hand. Negan made a happy noise in his throat at that.

Rick made himself quiet. Only shaky breaths left him as Negan rearranged the bone.

"Oh shit, sorry, I didn't do that quite right, did I? Don't worry I'll reset it again." And again, as it turned out. Rick had probably thought it was punishment. It was not, not then. It had just been that Negan was not a natural when it came to fixing things. Didn't have the healing touch.

Negan put Rick in the basement, when he was finished.

It didn't have windows, was black and cold.

 

 

 

Negan nudged Rick awake. Had very nearly pulled him up by his hair that second day - the impulse was certainly there. He reigned himself back.

"First thing we're going to do today is visit _T_ he _S_ anctuary!" Negan put emphasis on those last two words as if he'd been announcing a circus act.

He shoved Rick into the trunk of an old beater car, haphazard. Knew the exhaust wasn't working and heard Rick begin to choke halfway there.

When they arrived he pulled Rick out roughly, didn't let him get his bearings and he shook him roughly when he stumbled after him.

"Look at all these dead babies!" Negan said glibly, until he didn't. Until his voice was cold and hard and he had pushed Rick down into their bodies, " _Look at them!_ "

The mass grave of children had made Rick shake like a leaf. Negan hadn't let Rick up until his front was covered in decomposed gore.

He stared at a toddler and it took Negan a full moment to realize he was thinking of his own baby.

"Doesn't fucking matter if they're not yours, huh Rick? You're digging graves today."

Negan watched. Rick dug, tears pouring down his face, for hours. At the end he hadn't been able to lift his arms so he had dropped to his knees, fingers scrambling at the ground. He managed to rebreak his fingers but didn't stop, didn't notice, and Negan had to forcibly remove him from the grave once it had gotten tedious to watch. They were one grave short.

"Kiss them goodbye." Negan said when Rick laid the children down in their graves. He thought Rick would fight him then, but he didn't. He arranged the little bodies with reverence, pressed kisses to their foreheads even when some of the soft flesh stuck to his lips.

"You didn't love this one enough to make a grave for it." Negan said, pointed at that first toddler. "You better keep her warm for the night Rick. I'll be back in the morning."

 

 

 

When Negan came back the next morning he found Rick curled around her. There had been a little patch of scalp missing where Negan guessed that Rick had stroked her hair. Rick had been awake, eyes unseeing, arm gently and carefully curled around the child despite the sickly smell of death.

Negan dug the last grave. Rick didn't notice. Rick had probably even thought he had dug it as he laid the girl down. It was then that her mouth fell open and a bug crawled out. Rick moaned in distress, tried to brush it away but the flesh was just too soft and rubbed off.

Rick's eyes had spilled over with tears, which had already been red and puffy, and Negan pulled him away from the corpse. Rick fought to get back to it and Negan had to shake him roughly, show him first hand how futile his struggles were.

"She's not yours so you don't care _right?_ "

Rick didn't quiet at that though. He fought without thought, pushed weakly against Negan. Physically, at his best, he had never been a match for Negan so it had been laughably easy for Negan to just manhandle him back to the car.

 

 

 

"Wash yourself." Negan said back at Alexandria, pushed a bucket of water at Rick that always wasn't going to be enough, "or wash your clothes. They're the only ones you'll be getting."

 

 

 

Negan brought him up from the basement sometime in the afternoon. While the sun was cheery and bright. Light had streamed through the windows, soft and domestic. Rick hadn't been able to contain everything he'd wanted to keep inside himself. It had spilled forth at Negan's command.

It wasn't enough. No matter how cruelly Negan touched him it didn't seem to be enough. Negan had looked out the window and caught a glimpse of some kids at the fence.

He remembered the way Rick's face had colored as he had whispered lowly in his ear, eyes on them both, on one of his many strolls through Alexandria. Rick had been humiliated, the expression in his eyes torn and delicate, pleading.

He didn't finish the malformed thought before he was dragging Rick out the front door and down the steps. The kids retreated, but after the first few hits, they slowly snuck back. Had peaked curiously through the fence.

Negan made himself into the bully, and if there would have been a toilet present, he would have given Rick a swirly.

He slapped Rick, over and over, until his hand print was a permanent fixture. One of the kids made an appreciate noise, almost a groan. Rick had trembled at that and Negan wondered if he imagined his son on the other side of the fence.

Next Negan had pushed Rick onto the ground, belly down, and hiked his hips up. He had put Rick on display before them, jerked Rick's pants and underwear down. He spanked him hard, vicious hand prints appearing across his backside.

He didn't stop until his arm shook with the strain of the blows. The bruises were dark and when Negan pulled Rick up, refastened his pants and pushed him towards the house he had stumbled forward and down. He couldn't walk.

There had only been one kid left at the fence then.

 

 

 

Rick didn't make it down the stairs on his own. When Negan withdrew his support halfway down Rick pitched forward and tumbled. Negan paused for a moment, to see if he could hear breathing. When he did he turned and went back up the steps.

The next day he had to bring Rick upstairs because he couldn't bring himself.

Negan had been throwing bottles of water and packets of instant noodles down since the first week. All were intact, save for a few of the water bottles.

And Negan had intended to drag Rick up but instead he found himself picking the man up in a fire man's carry and heading up the steps.

"I made you something to eat." He said, and had placed some fresh fruit in front of Rick, sliced into bits.

He left Rick to it. Turned on the basement light and cleaned up. He emptied the filth bucket that had been Rick's toilet. Picked up the empty water bottles and the cloth paint tarp Rick had so obviously been using as a blanket.

When he returned the fruit was gone. Rick had stared down at the plate like he didn't know what happened to it.

He let Rick sleep in the second bedroom after that. Let him have a blanket, a shower and Negan's old sweatshirt and pajama pants.

 

 

 

Negan arranged for Rick to see his children. He attributed it to Rick's uncharacteristic silence. It bothered him even as he knew it shouldn't. The man was so fierce. Negan had never seen anyone with so much fire in their eyes. With so much spunk and fight. Rick seemed like a shell of his former self.

Negan had meant to be teaching Rick a lesson - _look at what you've cost everyone, so many lives, and all you had to do was follow me_.

He didn't realize he was broadcasting - _I thought we had an understanding but you betrayed me_ \- and it wouldn't have mattered because Rick couldn't see it, couldn't hear it, didn't _know_.

Rick's children didn't pep him up. He returned even more downtrodden, depressed and lackluster. Negan had thought it was the fact that he wouldn't be able to see them anymore any time he liked.

"I'll let you see your kids." He'd said shortly. He hadn't wanted it to sound reassuring.

He wondered if Rick's slack expression was because of Carl. The abrasive boy had always been hard on Rick, even before. He'd seen his father's bruises no doubt, had maybe seen his stiff range of motion and Negan's pristine condition and wondered why Rick hadn't fought back.

Negan wondered that himself.

"Rick." It was the first time he'd said his name in a while. It immediately threw Negan back down memory lane. Back when he had believed that they could build something together, that Rick had been coming around to the idea.

"I didn't think the baby was Judy." Rick said, protesting. Negan stopped short at the non-sequitur.

"Okay." Negan said.

He didn't know what he was doing - his hand moved on its own.

Went to brush the small curls up at the back of Rick's neck.

"For a while I thought you lost your voice." Negan continued.

Rick didn't answer, had remained absolutely still while Negan's fingers pet through his hair.

Negan seemed to realize what he was doing then. Turned his hand rough in Rick's hair as if that had been the plan all along.

"Your kids won't love you anymore. Eventually, they'll get bored and they won't come to see you. And you - you will be stuck here with me."

It wasn't true - felt like a scraped together insult, generic.

_You will be stuck here with me_ , had ran through Negan's head the rest of the day.

 

 

 

Rick had too much leverage over Negan, already he felt himself forgiving the man. Felt like he wanted to soothe the worried furrow in Rick's brow. If anything, the feelings Rick inspired just made it harder for him in the long run. Negan fortified himself against Rick staunchly. Everyday, whether he felt like it or not - wanted to or not - Negan touched him up a little, bullied him.

"Be strong, Rick!" he said, shaking him. Annoyed with his quiet whines of pain. "Big boys don't cry, or do I have to take you out to the peanut gallery?"

"I can't be - " Rick said quietly, breath stuttering.

"What was that?" Negan roared, took Rick's delicate wrist and forearm in his hands and gave him a snake bite, twisting until the skin was flushed and sore. Closed his fist around Rick's and _squeezed_.

"Can't be strong. Can't be what you want." Rick gasped out.

"Oh - and what is that Rick?"

"I c-can't. I just can't anymore. Wanted to. I did, for Carl. But I can't-"

Negan understood what he was saying. Laughed, ugly and short.

"Oh so that's what that was? Should have known you wouldn't have the balls to defy me without a little push. You were trying to be an example for your boy huh?"

Negan had never felt it as much as he did in that moment. Blood thumped through his ears.

"You wouldn't have fought me, would you?"

He had to know.

"Would you Rick?" He'd bent close to his face, shook him, desperate.

"No." Rick exhaled.

Negan punched him solidly in the mouth at that. Felt gratified at Rick's split lip.

"Maybe we'll go see that gallery after all." Negan said, cruel. "Show them what kind of a example you turned out to be."

He wasn't sure if he regretted it or not, after he realized Carl was there.

 

 

 

 

"You can go wherever you like. Into Alexandria if you want. Just be home by nightfall." Rick had stared dumbly up at Negan, like a puppy dog, "No strings attached. Fucking go."

Rick had watched him wearily, had seemed surprised when he realized there were really no strings attached.

"Thank you Negan." He had said, eyes downcast, lashes fanned against his cheeks. Over sized sweatshirt and too long pajama pants.

Negan got into his space, in case he got the wrong idea.

"I don't want a thank you from you." He said and then he had turned Rick around and held him up against the counter, wrenched his arm up behind his back. "Say Uncle." he hissed into Rick's ear.

It had taken Rick another moment of steadily applied pressure before he gave Negan what he wanted.

 

 

 

Negan didn't bring Rick before the peanut gallery again. Didn't strictly adhere to their old schedule.

He caught the kids a few times at the fence and dismissed it. Figured they would go home eventually.

There was always one though that hung around long after the others had left.

He hadn't thought it was important.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Rick

 

 

 

 

The look in Carl's eyes had been familiar. Rick knew he was failing even as he was struggling very hard to stay afloat. It almost didn't matter, not with Glen and Abraham's bodies scantly a car length behind them. Carl had been so calm, put together. Just as Negan had been calm, stone faced and joyous. It was a quality that Rick could never seem to get a hold on.

He had seen the moment his estimation fell in Carl's eyes.

"Just do it Dad."

Once it had begun to fall, there didn't seem to be anyway to stop it.

 

 

 

After ward, Carl's stern gaze had remained a firm reminder of his disapproval, of Rick's hard won respect from after the Governor going down the drain. Rick didn't know when it had become so glaringly apparent he was lacking. He hadn't felt lacking. Not until Carl had seemed to grasp and prod at all the chinks in his armor, expose the creases and bends.

Negan was something else. The man seemed to be the embodiment of Carl's sentiment come to life. As if his existence was a very pronounced antithesis by which Carl could refute him. Could point to and say 'You are not that'.

Rick hadn't known how weak he truly was before Negan - but no, that wasn't quite true, he knew he'd been weak, in various ways. Had compensated. Had promised himself he would keep compensating if that's what it took to keep his children alive. Next to Negan, though, he was a fish trying to fly next to an eagle.

It was almost a shock when he had found that all he had to do was give in his convictions a little, just listen and obey, and they would be safe. His children would be safe.

It had felt almost natural to bend against the force of the Saviors. Of Negan himself. There were even moments when he thought he might be able to see a future.

Jessie understood. From the first moments they had exchanged glances - Jessie with her fist darkened eyes and Rick with his fist darkened soul, and it really had nothing to do with before or after, walkers or the end of civilization - there was recognition. They recognized themselves in each other.

Rick had wanted to save her. So he had killed Pete.

She seemed to understand it was a gift, however much it hurt.

He had figured it might break them apart. Still, after Negan, she had been the only one to look at him without disgust.

Everyone could see Rick for who he really was then.

Whipped, Bitch, Toy, Traitor, Dog.

"You can't keep doing this." Carl had spit at him one night.

"Carl - "

"No. They will take and take until everything is gone. Do you really want to live like this?"

"Carl, plea - "

"Everyone here is ready to fight. Maggie, Sasha, Rosita are all ready to fight, and they've lost a lot more than you have."

Rick didn't have a response for that. Carl's palpable disgust had frozen him on the spot.

"I'm willing to die for our freedom either way." Carl said. "With or without your support."

There was nothing else that could be done then, after that.

 

 

 

Everything had fallen apart spectacularly.

 

 

 

And Rick was strong, playing at being strong, trying so hard but he could see in Carl's eyes that he wasn't making the cut anymore. Sometimes Rick spent hours in Judy's room when he was supposed to be elsewhere, the pure lack of judgement addictive.

It was an inevitability that Alexandria would choose a new leader. Rick felt Daryl was a good choice. Certainly more suited than Rick himself.

 

 

 

What Negan wanted - it was a surprise. When he laid out his terms Carl had returned to the house, and Rick had rushed to reassure him.

"Carl, that's never going to happen."

Carl had stopped on his way up the stairs, turned slowly and looked at him like he could see into his soul. Looked at him like he had after the Governor, as if Rick's entire existence was without function, was a betrayal.

Rick found he had nothing to say, after that.

 

 

 

They sat him down in the room, Negan and Carol and Daryl, and talked about him like he wasn't sitting right there.

There was something almost like relief that swelled up in him, when he realized he wasn't the one that had to take responsibility any more. Didn't have to worry about making choices, not even ones concerning himself.

 

 

 

It didn't matter that Negan hurt him that first day. It was the second day that did him in. He never even thought to play strong, the only thing on his mind - the only thing he had felt would ever be on his mind again - were their sweet little faces, decimated and ruined.

The Saviors war had been fought on two fronts on the second attack. The herd hadn't been planned, and no Alexandrians had come forward to help when The Sanctuary had been overrun. They had retreated. It was only afterward they had heard about the civilians.

"Fucking _help_!" Negan had yelled at him, at them all. Face desperate in that moment.

Their blood was on Rick's hands already, it was only fitting that it be literal.

 

 

 

And Negan. Negan was inconsolable.

 

 

 

Whatever he had said, Rick wasn't sure he didn't think of the little girl as Judy. He thought he hadn't. But then the visit happened and suddenly - and Carl and Judith didn't want him anymore. Even Negan, who hadn't been present for it, could see that.

Rick could understand that. It made sense.

Judy was too little, except, she really would be better off without him, wouldn't she?

It was around that time, that Rick found, even though it had been coming for awhile, with tattered edges and worn down holes, that he couldn't be strong anymore.

"Be strong, Rick!" Negan had demanded, but it wasn't in him. Even as much as he wanted to obey.

Rick hated what Negan called the peanut gallery.

He wanted to tell him, _You can hurt me but please let it just be you,_ but he was afraid it might come out wrong.

That it might be used against him.

He should have known when the boys were more subdued than usual, making scarcely any noise. So little that Rick could hear them breathing. And then Negan had reached down and tilted his head up.

Inexplicably, there was Carl's face, pale and wan beyond the fence. There had been a reason Rick couldn't look up. Would never look up no matter what.

Carl watched him. And Rick couldn't - he just couldn't.

 

 

 

It seemed unbelievable that Negan would let him go wherever he wanted. Would let him return to his life during the day.

But Negan had given him a room, a bed, penance and the clothes off his back, worn things that didn't look like they had been newly scavenged.

When Rick had said, "Thank you" he meant it to the bottom of his soul.

It wasn't strong, wasn't what someone who was strong would say, in that situation but it was true.

 

 

 

Ron.

And Rick knew Ron, thought about the boy and his brother Sam often. He had the same soft blonde hair as his mother, feathered and delicate. Features boyish like Carl. And he was like Carl, over sized hands that he hadn't grown into, voice just on the other edge of cracking, same teenage sullenness.

It seemed, whether Rick denied it or not - wanted to or not, he was seeing his children everywhere.

"Stop it." Rick's own voice cracked on the words, blood was already leaking down into his eye. It bathed everything red, blurred the boy so he looked even more like Carl.

The boy had his hand down his own open pants and it was obvious what he was doing.

Rick pushed him, hands shaking, and he was just -

It's not like Ron was touching him much right then. Had only one hand against Rick's shoulder. His strength, like Carl's, was deceptive. He kicked out Rick's knee and Rick faltered, Ron's hand pushing him down until Rick was crouched awkwardly on his knees, breath hissing through his teeth in pain.

It was only a few seconds.

Rick pushed him away more firmly, with both hands, fingers aching.

It was too late though.

The boy's cum painted across Rick's face, his hair and his throat.

Their eyes met then, Ron's hooded and sated, his mouth hanging open. The muscles in Rick's arms locked and he couldn't get them moving. Ron only had to step past.

The boy leaned forward, brushed the tip of his dick across Rick's mouth, pushed against his parted lips and closed teeth.

Rick wrenched backwards, head cracking dully against the fence.

He felt suddenly, fiercely, like he wanted to cry.

And Ron was laughing softly, panting, "Take it slut."

The gravity of the violation settled down into Rick's bones.

Then there was a noise in the distance that startled the boy, and he tucked himself in and ran off, steps light and energetic, nearly jubilant.

Rick shook. And for a moment he wanted to kill the boy, and the thought made him turn and puke off to the side. Arms finally in motion, crumbling and shaking.

He scrubbed at himself desperately, the fluid already turning tacky.

He didn't make it home before night fall.

He was almost glad for the dark, muted candlelight. How Negan dismissed him to the basement as punishment immediately, pushed him roughly towards the stairs where he tripped, and crashed down the rest of the way.

"You okay Rick?" Negan's voice was a reverberation through Rick's skull.

He didn't feel okay.

 

 

 

 

Rick chose Father Gabriel. It couldn't be Jessie, Rick wanted to spare her that much. And Father Gabriel wouldn't talk - his beliefs wouldn't allow it.

"Rick." The man's eyebrows curved downward, "How are you? You look...very bad."

"There's something I need to talk to you about. Can we go somewhere more private?"

"Of course."

They left the steps of the church, headed in and towards the alter. Father Gabriel didn't say as much, but Rick could tell his battered appearance shook him.

"I - well, I'm surprised and pleased to see you here." Gabriel's soft gaze connected and he asked quietly, "Did Negan do this?"

"No." Rick said, voice rough, "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

Gabriel looked flatly like he didn't believe him. The bruised ribs, the crooked fingers and faint bruises were all Negan's work. But everything visible had been Ron.

"It was Ron." Rick said and Gabriel nodded, after a moment.

"Anderson? So he hasn't forgiven you." Gabriel closed his eyes.

"It's not just that. Gabriel, this kid has real...problems."

"Of course that's natural. Or is there something else?"

Rick's mouth had opened and closed at that.

"He has real problems."

"And you want me to help him?"

"Yes."

"I need to know what I'm helping with."

Gabriel waited patiently, let Rick speak at his own pace.

"He...sought me out yesterday. After I was...his problems are sexual." Rick hated how agitated he appeared.

Gabriel looked alarmed.

"What did he...?"

"J-just, you know, it was just that he - " Rick made a vague hand motion, "he hurt me first and then he...on me."

"He ejaculated on you." Rick didn't understand why it needed to be said but he nodded at Gabriel's blunt assessment.

"He's just a boy, Carl's age. He just needs direction, help. And you know I...I killed his father but this isn't..."

The act felt lighter somehow - less disturbing, less damaging - after it had been framed properly. Ron was just a boy. Troubled, confused, but a boy.

"I know Rick, I'll see what I can do."

Father Gabriel hadn't looked troubled exactly, or - not as much as the situation required.

"You know," Gabriel had continued, "sometimes boys just - well, anyway, I'll talk to him."

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Crosswires

 

 

 

 

The first thing Rick had thought of was getting the boy help. The second thing was the fact that Carl had been in Ron's house, Ron's room, unsupervised. Rick hadn't had any suspicions beforehand but it was as he was leaving the church that the thought smacked him in the face.

There had been a full night where Rick had done nothing.

Negan hadn't even wanted to let him go out that morning but Rick had grabbed his arm, had told him it was important and Negan had nodded a little reluctantly.

Rick made it home - his and Carl's and Judith's home - in a blur. The door was locked and Rick knocked loudly, a little too panicky, against the door. Carl opened it, looking unimpressed and sleep mussed.

"Dad? What are you doing here?"

"Carl, I need to talk to you."

The boy reluctantly led him inside.

"Judy's just having breakfast now. We'll talk after that, okay?" Carl said, jaw set as if inviting Rick to contradict him.

Rick followed Carl to the kitchen, heart clenching when he saw Judith at the table eating cheerios. She saw him and deliberately turned her face away.

"She's just angry because you haven't been around."

"I know." Rick said softly. He wanted to reach out and cradle her but held back. She snuck a glance at him, jerking her face back the other direction when she saw him looking "Who's watching her during the day?"

"Well, a few of the Alexandrians. There's one named Marge. She usually watches her because she has a toddler too."

"I see. I - " Rick cleared his throat, "I can't visit all the time, I know you don't want me to. Negan said I'm free to do whatever I want during the day."

"Really? During the day? He just wants you for the night, right? To warm his bed." The words were spiteful, a jab meant to hurt.

"Carl," Rick growled helplessly, warning, "You know the terms, you know that's not true."

"I know that. Why would he want you? I've seen his wives remember?" Carl said pointedly, as if to hurt him, "But it's what everyone thinks."

Rick set his jaw, he didn't know how to respond, what Carl wanted him to say.

"I'm sorry I'm not here Carl. I want to be." Is what he settled on. It was the truth.

"Well, we don't want you here anyway!"

"Carl, that's not what I'm here about." Rick kept his voice even, but it only seemed to made Carl angrier, "I need to talk to you about something else."

Judy had been sneaking glances at Rick throughout the exchange. When Carl became physically upset she launched a sippy cup at Rick.

"Bad!"

The word froze Rick, as the sippy cup thudded dully against his stomach and rolled.

"Judith-" he began, startled but pleased.

"That isn't her first word." Carl said, cutting him off.

"Bad bad bad!" Judith chanted in the background.

"It wasn't Dada either." Carl said coldly.

"What was it?" Rick asked, but continued heart sick when no other answer was forthcoming, "Carl, you can't expect to just cut me out of your lives."

"Why not? Judith isn't even yours."

Rick hadn't thought Carl knew.

He couldn't have explained what took him over then. A sudden breathlessness as if he'd been sucker punched. A stinging pressure behind his eyes.

Rick broke down into tears, suddenly - like a dam breaking, loud sudden sobs as he slid down into a chair. It startled all three of them.

"Dad." Carl's voice sounded confused, regretful, and it took effort for Rick to pull air into his lungs to respond.

"J-just give me a m-minute."

Judith started crying too and Carl removed her from the room.

 

 

 

It was a while before Carl gathered his nerve to go back into the dining room.

"Carl" Rick said seriously, "I need to ask you something and I need you to be honest. You're not in trouble and you don't need to be embarrassed."

The only evidence that his Dad had had some kind of breakdown was his red rimmed eyes. Carl reminded himself that weaker people broke all the time under pressure. It had probably been coming for a while, probably happened regularly only this time it hadn't been private.

"You can't just do that you know. Scare Judith." He wanted to impress that fact on him. Judith was the one thing they both had a duty to protect above all else.

"I know. I d-didn't mean to." Rick blew out a breath, steadied himself.

"Not just crying like that but-" Carl gestured to his general appearance. It had to have stung, from the look on his Dad's face.

Carl maintained it had needed to be said.

"I- Okay. I understand. You're right."

"What it is you want to ask?"

There was some hesitance before Rick spoke, it made Carl nervous.

"Do you remember that night...the one where me, you and Michonne found Daryl again?"

"Yes." Carl tried not to show it, but the question startled him. It wasn't something they spoke about.

"So, that was - well Carl, there are different degrees, and that's an extreme example but sometimes things happen - "

"Are you trying to give me the birds and bees talk?"

"No Carl, I'm telling you that there are sexual predators - "

"I know. Look, we don't need to talk about this. I know already."

"Carl we do need to talk about this. It could be something as small as someone pressuring you to kiss them. Or-"

"I get it." Carl didn't really get Rick's train of thought, or why they should be talking about it. He supposed it must be a last ditch parenting effort.

"Has that happened?" Rick asked, eyes wide and serious. So tense and earnest, looking for answers that Carl suddenly felt their roles had reversed. That Rick was the child and Carl the adult. Carl had been feeling like that for a while.

"No." He said blankly.

"Carl, I need you to tell me the truth."

"I'm not lying. The most sexual harassment I've experienced here is Ron trying to pawn off one of his Dad's old magazines on me. I know about sex, I know about force and I don't need any lectures from you."

Carl thought he caught something, a flinch almost, at the mention of Ron. He definitely caught the way Rick's face fell at the end of his sentence.

"Carl, I don't think you should be hanging out with Ron anymore."

Carl shrugged, "We're not friends anymore anyway."

 

 

 

 

Rick went home straight after. Negan startled from his position on the porch when he saw him approach. He was painting the trim a bright sea foam green.

"What are you doing back? It's morning still." Negan lowered his paint brush.

It was strangely domestic to see the man at work, with small spatterings of paint across his arms and chest.

"Did you visit the kids?" Negan asked when he didn't answer.

"Yeah."

"Rick, I hate like fuck to mention it but you're beat to shit."

Rick didn't see a need to explain. The situation had already been handled and Negan would probably only laugh at the fact that a child had got the best of him.

"I fell down the stairs." It was easy to say.

"I know I was there. Didn't realize the stairs had a vendetta against that pretty face of yours."

Rick wasn't sure what had made Negan so relaxed, almost playful, and he didn't ask. Just sat on the steps below Negan and watched him smear paint across wood.

"I was thinking..." Rick began, "there isn't really a place for me in Alexandria. I was thinking about going on runs."

"You're not going on runs alone."

"I didn't say alone."

That made Negan stop, turn to face him. Rick wasn't sure how violent his reaction would get.

"I thought we could go together." Rick said, steeling himself.

"You think I want to go on runs with a baby killer?"

Rick would have preferred the violence. The words froze him in place. It was some time before he was able to will his body to move.

Negan didn't have to put him in the basement, he put himself there.

 

 

 

Negan hauled Rick up the next morning.

"Should have left the paint tarp down here for you I guess. Since you're such a fan of self flagellation. Wouldn't have used it though would you?"

Rick stirred. Stiffened in pain when he tried to roll over.

He kicked him while he was down. Pressed his foot until he could feel the individual ribs beneath. Pressed gently, warning. Felt powerful up against the fragile bones.

"You gonna get up cowboy?"

Rick stayed still beneath him. Ribcage pressing upwards with each breath.

"Get the fuck up."

Rick jumped at that. Got to his feet and followed Negan up the stairs.

Negan made them eggs. Sliced up an orange and set it on the edge of their plates.

"So you want us to go on runs together?" He asked.

When Rick didn't answer Negan slapped him on the back of the head.

"I asked you a question Rick."

"Yes I want us to go on runs together."

"Okay."

Rick had looked like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Don't be a jackass Rick. I said yes. In case you fucking forgot, I own you. So what do you say?"

"Thank you Negan." It didn't feel like a win. Didn't have that raw edge of power, of subjugation.

Negan felt like the jackass when the only thing he could find in Rick's face was exhaustion and gratefulness.

"Sleep in your fucking bed tonight, you look like one of the walkers out there."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Brave Red

 

 

 

 

 

Negan treats Rick like a bad dog. He smacks him in public, too firm to be a joke, around people, and sometimes hard enough that he literally knocks him off his feet. It isn't meant to seriously injure, it's more for the humiliation aspect and for the Alexandrians to be forced to see just what it is they'd agreed to - what they'd compromised.

He's punishing Rick, Carl knows, he isn't blind. He recognizes it though because he realizes he's doing the same thing.

And he keeps going back to his Dad's eyes at the fence. It plays over and over in his head like a stuck cd.

If Rick is nothing but weakness Carl guesses it's in his genes.

When Carl's around, Negan stays his hand. Carl tells himself he doesn't care, but when he lets himself care - he realizes he cares so intensely it's all he can do to keep still. Keep from leaping up and out the door and finding a way to right the situation.

There isn't a way to right the situation.

For all Negan is doing, Carl knows he isn't going to break Rick. Carl's the one who's been doing that.

 

 

 

The revelation doesn't change anything. Rick is still weak, and just maybe Carl is a little weak too but it doesn't _change anything_.

 

 

 

Carl goes to Ron's because he thinks it'll piss Rick off when he finds out.

Ron is the same boy as always.

"How is your Dad doing?" He asks, something perverse curling behind his eyes.

"How's your girlfriend? Oh wait - you don't have one."

Ron's mouth curls into a hard, angry line. But then he smiles, amused.

"I get more action than you think."

Carl suddenly thinks of the strange conversation he'd had with his Dad. Feels very suddenly something is very wrong with Ron. And he's felt it before - when Ron's with Enid, when he's with Sam. Something in Ron seems to twist. He doesn't worry about it though, because people with something wrong with them never last long. He can't say he'll be sorry to see Ron go.

He thinks maybe he's learned all he can about normal teenage behavior from Ron. He's moving on.

 

 

 

Carl thinks hard about it, and he decides that he's going to let Rick in. He's not going to give him another chance, because he'll only ruin it. He's going to let him in just as he is - weak and cowering, ineffectual and dazed. It takes more courage than Carl thinks possible to even make the decision.

He leaves Judith at the sitter's a little longer and goes to see his Dad.

He isn't sure what he's going to say exactly. But he thinks just showing up will be an improvement.

 

 

 

He waits and waits, but Negan's house is empty. Wherever they've went, it's unlikely they'll be back during the night. He leaves a note.

'Rick' it reads, and Carl almost went with Dad but he isn't there yet, 'I thought we could see each other. Carl. Ps. Judith's first word was Walker.'

He almost wants to lie, say her first word was Dad or Mom or maybe even his own name. He knows Rick will hate Judith's first word just as much as Carl himself did. The thought immediately allies them in Carl's brain, as if a shared distaste could bring them closer.

It's disturbing. To feel the weakness and sentimentality already creeping back into his bones.

 

 

 

He catches him the next day, at Negan's and it's obvious he was just about to start out for Carl.

His Dad smoothes his hair back in a nervous gesture. There's a ring of black around his eye but he looks otherwise untouched.

"Carl, I was just about to come see you."

"I know." The words are both smaller and larger than what Carl intends.

"Should we- I mean, where would you like to talk?" Rick asks, voice calm and steady.

"Here's fine." Suddenly, a lump seems to form in Carl's throat.

His Dad trails awkwardly to the back porch and Carl follows. His gait is sturdy and commanding as it always was. It's a lie though. And Carl can see it in his eyes, how they turn soft when he looks at him.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah." he says, very nearly stricken.

Carl can trace worry faintly across Rick's face as Rick anxiously leans against the railing.

"Are you sure? If there's anything-"

"I'm sure." Carl clears his throat, "Dad, what I - what I said before about cutting you out of Judith's life. I'm sorry, that was wrong of me."

Rick looks a little startled and for a moment looks like he's going to cry. But instead he straightens his back and clears his throat.

"Carl, that means a lot for you to say that. I know I screwed up. And I know I'm not as...I'm not the same. Not as strong. You were right, and I'm sorry if I disappointed you."

Carl shifts from foot to foot.

He's saved from saying anything though when Negan comes around the corner and startles at the sight of them.

"Thought you were going into town Rick." he says, simply - from Carl's point of view - to make conversation.

"I was. I am." His Dad stammers awkwardly, keeps his head down, doesn't look in Negan's eyes.

It's not weakness, or at least not this time. Carl knows embarrassment when he sees it.

Wonders what happened between them that causes Rick to flush hotly and Negan to look uncharacteristically disturbed with himself. It had to be _something_. After all, Negan had had Rick over his knee and it hadn't had the same effect. But it's not Carl's business, and though it stirs his curiosity, it isn't what he came for either.

"Can I?" Rick asks Carl, then clarifies, "is it alright if I come see Judith?"

Carl nods.

 

 

 

Judith takes some cajoling to accept Rick back into the fold. She's been angry at his absence. Carl would almost say she'd acted like she felt betrayed.

It takes Rick over a half hour to get her smiling, and a few minutes after that to get her laughing.

The sound is sweet, and something Carl can't seem to provide her no matter how often he's tried. He can't be silly. Can't play. But Rick makes vroom noises and drives a car up her leg. Asks her animal sounds and joins in when she tries. He lifts her in his arms and pretends she's an airplane.

Somewhere deep inside Carl it hurts. He remembers a time before, when Rick used to do the same for him.

Carl used to get that same wide smile.

Now, when his Dad looks at him just the sight of Carl wipes the smile nearly all the way off his face.

Judith cries like she's dying when Rick leaves, and though Rick isn't loud about it Carl guesses the volume of their tears are about the same.

 

 

 

Surprisingly it's Ron who tells the other boys to move on from their complaining. And he used to be the one to incite it, to whine incessantly that if Negan wasn't going to provide a show anymore the least he could do is let someone else take over the reigns.

They still quiet around Carl. And they're not friends with him, if they ever were.

Most of the adults just tell him he's a serious kid.

But Enid - she seems to have more sense than most. Carl had caused a riff between them, when she saw how he treated his father. Told him he should be thankful, should treasure their time together and he hadn't listened.

Now that Carl's seen increasingly with Rick, on peaceful terms, she comes into his orbit once again.

 

 

 

There's a rumor going around Ron's punched Father Gabriel. Carl doesn't lend much credence to rumors. After all, there had been one going around that Negan's been fucking his Dad since forever ago.

He finds out later from Enid that it was a talking to. Or really, there were two talking to's and the second one just got a little out of hand. Ron's mom had shown up and slapped Father Gabriel in the face.

The big mystery apparently is why Ron was in trouble at all. Carl thinks it could be any number of things.

One thing Carl does know for certain is that Ron isn't smart enough to cover his tracks, and most likely it'll only be a matter of time before everyone in Alexandria knows his business anyway.

 

 

 

He meets Ron, incidentally and unintentionally, one evening when he's walking his Dad back to Negan's.

Ron is at the back of one of the houses they pass by to get to Negan's. Carl sees Ron before Ron sees him. Ron sways towards Rick and seems to lurch almost for a second before he draws back, sees Carl.

Rick freezes. Like he's stuck somehow and it makes a few moments for him to thaw. He swallows thickly a couple of times, blinks, before he finally draws himself back from Ron, towards Carl.

It's odd.

"I didn't see you there." Rick says, and Carl's never heard his Dad's voice sound that dry. Notices he rubs absentmindedly at his wrist where there are bruises.

Negan hasn't been hurting Rick as much, and Carl still tries not to care.

"Carl." Ron spits his name like a curse word.

Carl just stares him down until he leaves.

"Don't worry Dad," Carl cuts him off before he says anything, "we're not friends. It's unlikely we ever will be given that I'm dating Enid."

It isn't big news, they haven't exactly been hiding it so Carl is completely unprepared for the reaction it inspires.

Rick's whole countenance changes, he looks punch drunk and pleased.

"Carl - that's - that's wonderful. Enid's a very smart young woman. I would love if you brought her around. We could have her over for supper."

And it's not - it's not that awful thing inside of Carl that despises weakness that causes him to say it.

It's an embarrassment so sharp it cuts Carl's good sense out of him.

"Why would she need or want to meet _you_."

Rick's weakness breaks across his face and it occurs to Carl then that it is weakness - yes - but it's only there because it's _Carl_. No one else could coax that look out from his Dad's face so easily.

 

 

 

Surprisingly it makes him feel like shit.

 

 

 

It's only a small setback in Carl's eyes but from Rick's reaction he may as well have knocked him back to home plate.

Rick is once again subdued, and can't quite look at Carl, and sometimes he looks like he's going to burst into tears for a faint second before the light changes and he just looks dazed and dream ridden.

Carl tells himself he'll get over it, and goes out of his way to avoid being alone with Rick because his melancholy is catching.

He wonders if it might be Negan. The man has gone from zero to sixty again in reverse. Doesn't seem to want anything to do with Rick. As far as Carl knows they don't even go on runs together anymore. Rick stays in Alexandria, works with Eugene, for all his days and crawls back to Negan's just for a few hours of sleep.

It's so bad Carl wonders if Negan might not kick Rick out soon. Wonders why his Dad is taking it so hard.

But then he reminds himself not to shift the blame too far. It's him too. And Rick is already weak, so weak, that he's broken by things Carl wouldn't give a second thought to.

He invites Enid for supper with his Dad and Judith and he sets it up. Surprises his Dad, and it's the first time he sees him smile in what feels like forever.

 

 

 

Negan doesn't touch his Dad at all anymore, doesn't hurt him. But the bruises - mysterious things that they are - stay on Rick's body like a brand.

And Carl, Carl hadn't even given them a second thought.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Speak Louder

 

 

 

 

 

The first run goes well, like magic. They're like a well oiled machine. Just like Negan knew they always could be, given the chance. Rick takes direction from Negan like he's a deity. Takes his lead.

At the same time it acquiesces him it also makes him hotly angry.

Because it's how things should have been, without all the death.

 

 

 

He hurts Rick less. Like he's winding down. He has to consciously grasp his anger to feel it. To communicate it onto Rick's smooth skin. It doesn't help that sometimes Rick sighs at the times Negan's hands are on him and he isn't doing anything particularly punishing. His eyes look sweet when he closes them.

It's probably connected to the fact that Rick finds ways not to take care of himself.

Negan has to push him to eat, push him to sleep, push him to rouse.

It's a creeping depression that seems to take Rick hard whenever he goes to see his kids.

Negan's always wanted children. And he knows better than to say Rick is wasting time by not being fucking ecstatic at any moment he spends with them because he's seen the man with his kids before. _Knows_ he doesn't take them for granted. Knows Rick wishes he were with them.

Rick, as Negan has always suspected, takes things hard.

 

 

 

Rick is a hot mess.

He's sloppy with his personal hygiene. Sleeps wherever he drops. Doesn't look after his clothes.

He's _clumsy_ , and Negan has become so accustomed to his lithe grace and solid, quiet dignity that his panicked fumbling whenever he drops something of Negan's creates a longing for the past. It shouldn't.

Negan knows that and yet, he also feels like Rick shouldn't be hanging his head like a dog about to be smacked just because he happened to drop a fucking coffee cup.

Negan plays his part, at least it feels like playing. Presses Rick slowly into the counter, and he isn't even leaving bruises anymore, asks him if he should rub his nose in the spilled coffee.

 

 

 

Carl doesn't visit with Judith. And there's really no reason why they should. Not at Negan's home. Although he finds himself wishing they would. Misses messing with them, misses watching Rick interact with them even more.

Rick goes to see them in Alexandria, but it's not everyday. In fact, it looks suspiciously like he avoids it some days. Either that or he's avoiding Alexandria altogether and Negan can't blame him.

Even Negan can see the distaste and vague distrustfulness most Alexandrians treat Rick with. It's natural, given that Rick's become the pariah he's also been forced into the position of scapegoat. It's fucked up, that the same Alexandrians welcome Negan into their fold.

Negan guesses they weren't there for most of everything. These weak people Rick had been sheltering. And Negan can see his touches, where he's tried to build them up. Carol and Daryl, the new Alexandrian power duo, are taking over his work. But some people just aren't meant to survive.

It's a lesson Negan had learned the hard way.

 

 

 

Maybe Negan should have seen it coming. Only, it seems so fucking impossible that for a second Negan thinks he's fallen into some kind of alternate dimension.

Rick's bright eyes are looking up at him. They're plastered against each other. It's their fourth run together.

When Rick tips up on his toes just to get a fucking taste of Negan's mouth Negan loses it. Like all sense has been drained from him.

He's not proud to say he's rough and _quick_.

They are on a run, and it isn't safe.

It probably isn't what Rick is expecting. He swears he has the majority of their clothes off in less than thirty seconds. Rick is stunned silent.

He pushes Rick backward onto the first available surface, pulls his legs up and presses them back. Spits and sticks his fingers in.

"You fucking like that baby?" he says and Rick makes a little choked noise. Sweat makes his hair damp at the ends and it curls sweetly on his forehead. Negan wants to remember it.

Rick scrambles to push him backward, though, and his fingers fall out with barely a wet pop.

Something in Rick's face catches on Negan's heart.

"Are you..." Negan was going to ask 'are you okay?' but can't. Rick's face looks stricken and pale.

Rick clears his throat, begins to curl his body into himself, away from Negan. It makes the bottom drop out of Negan's stomach.

He can feel his own face pale and they stare at each other like twin mirrors.

"Too fast." Rick pants, pulls the corner of his mouth up into a broken, awkward smile. Parts his legs a little in invitation. "I-I did mean...i-it's fine. I just wanted to kiss a little first."

It's not like Rick fought him, or tried to get away. He'd just gone frozen, and shocky.

Tonic immobility, Negan believes is the term, or something like it.

He pulls back and away. Redresses, doesn't look at Rick to see if he's doing the same.

Negan's so distracted he doesn't catch something he should, is jarred out of the way by Rick.

The walker very nearly gets the man.

Blind panic hits Negan then, like it's never before, and he swings. Misses, isn't quick. Aims at an strange, ineffectual angle and catches Rick in the eye.

Rick, for his part, has things under control. He's pushed up on it's jaw and kept a steady pressure there so it isn't able to bite him. Nearly loses his grip though when Negan socks him. But Negan gets it on the third swing.

The walker's too heavy for Rick to dislodge himself. Negan helps him with that at least.

Rick is too nonchalant, about fucking all of it, for Negan's liking.

 

 

 

When they get back Rick finds a note from Carl and treats it like it's the greatest piece of treasure ever uncovered. It almost makes Negan roll his eyes. Although Alexandria is already locked down for the night, it's still difficult to persuade Rick to stay and just go visit Carl in the morning. He manages it though.

Rick showers, changes into clean clothes (more and more of which Negan has been supplying) and actually decides to sleep in his bedroom. It's sometime between the shower and the bed that Rick regains his senses. Negan fixes him a snack and he's on his way up when Rick meets him in the hall. His whole face turns red and something like humiliation burns through it.

He turns quickly into his bedroom, and slams the door in Negan's face.

 

 

 

Negan doesn't sleep that night. He's lost in a grey area, and wonders if he's disobeyed the terms and conditions after all.

Wonders if Rick is _okay_.

He feels like a brute.

 

 

 

Rick doesn't come home until late, they don't talk.

The next morning he rolls into the kitchen like all is right with the world. Watches, and Negan can feel his eyes on him, as Negan makes them breakfast.

"You want toast Rick?"

Rick gets up from the counter, steels himself, and approaches. Negan watches him warily, draws himself up to his full height. They're toe to toe for a moment before Rick finally finds his nerve again.

When Rick kisses him this time Negan doesn't jump the gun.

He presses back softly. Let's Rick lead, and he's clumsy even in this.

The kisses start off shallow, and it's a few minutes before they begin to deepen. They kiss - Rick pressing in and Negan very still, pressed against the counter - until Negan's jaw starts to get sore.

But then Rick stops, melts against him, presses his head so sweetly to Negan's chest.

 

 

 

It's nearly hours of foreplay before Negan takes him on the bed, and even before he starts Rick's crying a little.

"You okay, honey?" he asks, "you do this before?"

Rick doesn't answer, or more accurately, chokes on an answer.

"Rick." he says, seriously. "Did someone-were you-" cuts himself off. _Forced_.

Rick looks confused, doesn't get what Negan is getting at.

They stare each other down for a moment and Negan can see when the revelation breaks on Rick's face.

"You want to know if I was...sexually assaulted."

"It seems relevant."

Rick regards him curiously for a moment, tilts his head like a puppy. It makes Negan's chest ache with want.

"You're acting damaged." Negan says, immediately thinks it's a poor choice of words and wishes he could take them back as Rick's face falls.

"I'm fine." Rick says, "I wasn't. If I had been would you...would you still...?"

"No." Negan admits, isn't sure if he should, if it'll ruin the mood. If Rick had been Negan would take it slower, would learn more before they ever got to this.

But Rick wasn't. So Negan leans in close and asks,

"You ever had a dick inside you Rick?"

"No." Rick blushes, looks away from Negan and glances back shyly.

 

 

 

Later, Negan is pleased at the reaction he gets as he's rocking into Rick's body. Rick's whole face is flushed and his eyes are glazed over. He's whimpering softly on every upstroke. His hips are chasing Negan's rhythm.

There's tears leaking from the corner of his eyes.

 

 

 

Rick is happy, and that makes Negan happy to a certain extent. It's disturbing that he has to remind himself. Rick is not someone to love.

It's the nightmares that harden Negan's heart. Because sometimes he forgets just who exactly he's dealing with.

Rick Grimes.

Still though, it's good. Rick is nothing but sweet kisses and shy glances and heat at the back of his neck. He isn't blood, brimstone and he isn't turning his back. Yet.

It'd be easier if Negan could just think of him as a wife. As one of his many, now dead, wives.

Rick seems to sense the change. Negan's not as affectionate. Still, though, he likes sex and he plans to have more of it with Rick.

 

 

 

It's only the second time when things start to go pear shaped. Rick had come in late the night before, and Negan had taken one look at him and had given him space. Assumed he must have had it out with Carl by the bruises and the _hurt_ look in his eyes.

Negan sets up a nice, romantic dinner despite himself. Tells himself it isn't really romantic, isn't meant to be, only of course they have to use candles and there's not much he can do about that. He doesn't make spaghetti. Goes out of his way to avoid anything remotely similar.

Rick smiles at the spread but it's a pale imitation of a real smile.

Rick doesn't like it, he pushes his food around the plate and Negan can already feel he's dead in the water.

He goes for it anyway and Rick let's him.

He takes it real slow. Makes his way around the table and runs a hand up and down Rick's arm. Gently cajoles him to the couch. And Rick - Rick is already breathless, nearly heaving when Negan begins to run his hands up and down his sides.

"Wait." Rick says. Negan's hands freeze, twitch, and come away.

Rick looks sickly and pale suddenly.

"I just - I may have been lying before."

"May have been?" it comes out harsher than Negan intends. He thinks he has a clue of what exactly Rick had been lying about.

Rick looks properly admonished. His tongue fumbles around nonsense words for a few seconds before he gets a hold of them.

"I lied about - about being..." Rick's having trouble saying it so Negan says it for him.

"Sexually assaulted."

Rick nods, can't meet Negan's eyes.

"I just wanted-"

"Stop." Negan says, and he knows it's cruel.

"Neg-"

"Stop Rick." When he's sure that Rick has he continues, "You didn't think that that was a fucking piece of important information?"

Negan's so angry - at Rick, at himself. In retrospect it was so completely obvious.

Rick reaches for him then. For comfort, to comfort? Negan doesn't know. He pushes Rick's hand away from his face.

 

 

 

He doesn't touch him again.

Not in any way. Rick, predictably, takes it hard.

Negan doesn't touch him, but somehow Rick finds a way to keep the ghosts of the bruises Negan gave him alive. He even gathers new ones.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Let's be friends

 

 

 

 

_"Let's Be Friends."_

The words echo in Rick's dreams sometimes. Words like a mask that hide ruin and devastation behind them. It isn't that Rick can't get ahold of himself, he can. But it's harder than he thought.

Like with Negan, who had broken him so easily. Like a toy crushed in a child's fist.

His mind lingers on Ron, and he's _bothered_ by it. The memory of what happened hurts to linger on and so Rick doesn't. Father Gabriel nods at him in town one day, relieved and satisfied expression on his face so Rick figures it's good. He tries not to think about it at all, really, and it's easy because sometimes his mind still fills with dead children.

He has nightmares and somehow everything he's ever been afraid of in them mix together.

He worries about Carl and Judith. Knows he'll have to come up with something, with some sort of plan to improve the situation they're in now but it escapes him. His mind fogs a little some days. It's hard going back into Alexandria.

He avoids the people he's called family. When he sees them, he crosses the street. The first time he does that Daryl goes wide eyed and betrayed. Rick expects they think he's angry. He isn't.

If Rick could, he'd crawl into a hole and never come out.

 

 

 

Negan is the hinge that everything relies upon. Rick finds himself increasingly looking upon him for direction. Negan is solid and sure, and he always knows what he's doing. He can be relied upon to be steady.

Rick finds strength in the routine of it.

He barely notices when Negan _notices_. Only Negan gets a look on his face, it causes something hot to unfurl in Rick's chest, and he doesn't touch him up as painfully after that.

Rick likes when Negan touches him, even when it's hard, because sometimes it feels like he's just going to fall apart. Negan's steady, warm hands always hold him together. Rick guesses maybe it's the pressure of the bruises that make him stick together.

 

 

 

He doesn't think about Ron anymore. Or about Jessie or Sam. His mind doesn't loop around there on regret and sadness because eventually it always folds back on to Ron and Rick isn't thinking about that. It's freeing, in a way. He feels almost lighter, when he doesn't have to regret.

Carl always weighs him down, though.

He's on his way to visit Carl one day when he's blindsided.

It's not that the same trick works twice. Only, Rick's hit with that same horrible motionlessness. If Ron were a walker Rick would be dead. Rick almost wishes he was.

Ron takes advantage of Rick's stunted reaction time. Loops a rope around him.

They're in a field, it's day, and anyone could walk by. No one is though.

Rick's abruptly yanked off his feet and as he's getting his breath back Ron stomps a boot down hard on his chest.

It's excruciating. Rick thinks he might have screamed because there's a hand coming to cover his mouth.

"-get _me_ in trouble? I'm going to show you just what trouble is." The boy is saying, low and muttery.

Rick bites the hand and Ron yanks it back, slaps him with it.

"Fucking _bitch_."

Rick gets an arm free just as Ron digs a knee into his chest where his boot had been and presses.

Rick's turned over then, and Ron yanks his free hand painfully up behind his back. Ron sits on him, presses him into the dirt.

"I could do anything I want to you." he says.

Something in Rick's throat sticks, he can't draw the air to answer.

Ron shuffles Rick's jeans down until they're halfway down his thighs.

He smack's Rick's backside, whistles, and Rick can already feel tears running down his face.

"As soon as I saw you like that, I just knew I had to do it too."

Rick thrashes and rocks but it doesn't dislodge the boy. Rick's not going to be raped. As soon as Ron shifts off of him to - Rick will strike.

Only Ron doesn't move off of him. He's a steady, crushing pressure. And he has enough reach that he can _play_.

He squeezes and pinches for awhile before he moves on.

Rick's vision dims minutely and he has to struggle for breath. So it's not a gasp, more of a breathless opening of the mouth like a fish gaping for air when Ron finds Rick's entrance and presses a fingertip in.

The boy shifts then, deliberately, so Rick can feel his erection.

Rick prays for someone to come and save him.

Ron is slow about it. Adds more and more.

"I love watching my fingers disappear into you." Ron sounds awed.

Ron touches and touches and Rick feels like he's going to puke.

Until finally,

"You're such a good little slut." Ron says and slowly removes his fingers. But then he has his hands down his pants again and he rocks a little, strokes it on Rick's back until he cums on him.

Ron laughs breathlessly, "Oh, you look perfect."

He says and slides a finger through the mess, pushes it back inside Rick. Does it again and again until everywhere is clean but Rick's insides.

Rick feels drained, wishes he would just _die_.

When Ron slides off of him with a final parting smack Rick feels he can't move.

Lays there for a few minutes before he gets up, rights himself.

He's glad his prayer weren't answered, that no one came. Because then they would _see_.

 

 

 

It affects him. He wants to pretend it doesn't. But it does.

It permeates his life.

 

 

 

He knows he should go back to Father Gabriel, but he can't bring himself to. He should go to Jessie but he just can't. Some days he can only get up because Negan makes him. Hauls his sorry self to breakfast, tells him to shower and change. Negan looks like an angel those days.

"We're going on a run Rick." Negan says.

Rick doesn't feel like he's in any condition, but no one is ever really in condition for a run.

Rick nods and Negan throws his hands up dramatically at the lack of answer.

"I'm missing your voice here, Sweetheart." The man says.

Rick chokes out an "Okay."

 

 

 

The run clears his head. He feels like himself again. He still dreams about dead children and ruined flesh but that's at night. During the day Rick has something resembling functionality. He has Negan.

Negan who prods at him, gets him to help with whatever home improvement project he has going that week. It's strangely domestic. Rick finds himself thinking Negan would have made a good husband. That makes him thinks about the man's wives and his proposed voracious sexual appetite. Rick finds his face heats.

"Your face is red, you thinking about me Rick?" Rick startles when Negan comes up behind him, and it's so scarily close to the truth that Rick just huffs, embarrassed.

Rick spills a can of paint. Negan looks over, baleful. He doesn't punish him though, doesn't press him into the ground or tell him he's going to put his nose in his mess like a dog. And Rick can feel a tremor run through him at the thought of being pushed into the ground and he hopes he doesn't -

Negan doesn't. He looks away, pretends he never saw it. Rick scrambles to clean it up.

 

 

 

Negan pulls Rick into a run whenever he thinks Rick needs it. Or at least Rick thinks he does.

He needs it.

Carl is silent, stone-faced, and he looks more like Lori every day. Has that hard, displeased edge in his face. Same as his mother. It's hard to look at him sometimes because his hate is palpable. A physical thing that presses into Rick.

Negan runs a hand through his dark hair, pokes his tongue out of his mouth.

"Should I take you on a run, boy?"

Rick's getting sick of the dog analogies. Still though, the sentiment behind it touches him. Negan is always there for him, the last man who should be, when he's had a bad day. Rick knows somewhere in the back of his mind that that's wrong, but he can't bring himself to address it.

It _feels_ right.

It's at that moment Rick realizes he's _attracted_ to Negan.

 

 

 

He's never been with a man before. Well, except - Rick doesn't like them in his mind at the same time. Keeps a clear distinction of thoughts.

Rick hasn't touched himself since the first time Ron - but he isn't thinking about that.

He tries, just to see if it will work. If he still works.

Starts with the thought of Negan's warm brown eyes on him. His hands on Rick's face.

He's thinking of what it would be like if Negan kissed him when he catches himself making a noise in the back of his throat. Finds himself shifting his hips up.

He wants to kiss him.

 

 

 

He does. It's on their fourth run and Negan looks - free. Peaceful.

He's alert, vigilant, like he's Rick's last line of defense and he wants to protect him.

It could end badly.

Rick has to press up on his tiptoes to reach the man's height. The kiss is soft, and chaste. A bright, sweet spot on the day.

Negan moves like a whirlwind. Rick's flat on his back before he can blink and he knows he goes shocky and cold like he does with -

He's not thinking about him here.

He's thinking about Negan whose touch is a little rough and Rick almost thinks he can take it only it turns out he can't. When he's able to he pushes Negan back.

"Too fast." He says, notices _something_ on Negan's face. Displeasure maybe.

Rick finds that he really wants to please him. And it's not like he isn't ready exactly, it's just that he hasn't gotten that far thinking about it.

He isn't _damaged_. And Ron - but no, he isn't damaged is the main thing.

Rick smiles in what he hopes is an inviting way, parts his legs.

The one thing he can believe is that he's never wanted Negan's hand on him more than now.

"I-I did mean...i-it's fine." he doesn't mean to sound so unsure, tries to explain "I just wanted to kiss a little first."

Negan pulls away from him. Rick isn't sure why his heart falls. He watches the man dress and then turns to do the same. Fixes his expression so the hurt doesn't show on his face. It's ridiculous, Rick wasn't aiming for sex so he isn't sure why the rejection hurts so much.

 

 

 

A walker almost gets him, but Negan saves him. So Rick guesses it might not be completely hopeless.

 

 

 

Carl. Carl _forgives_ him.

 

 

 

All is right in the world. Rick ignores the niggling thought of Ron in the back of his mind.

He almost feels he has the strength to deal with it. He feels invincible.

When he kisses Negan, Negan even kisses him back.

_Everything_ goes his way.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	8. You Belong to Me

 

 

 

 

Negan's sweet about it. Makes _love_ to Rick, or at least that's what Rick feels like he does. The man softly lays him down, runs his fingertips across every inch of skin he can reach.

"You're so sweet, you're doing so good baby." Negan mumbles into his shoulder, moaning a little, and Rick can't help the delicate bloom of something like pride in his chest.

He isn't broken. Isn't damaged.

" _N-Negan_." Rick doesn't bother to stop the whine that flows from his mouth. Hooks his legs around Negan's waist and presses the man to him. Negan chuckles softly.

"There you go. That feel good, sweetheart?"

Rick sighs and leans up to kiss him. Negan stops him, leans down instead. But he doesn't kiss him. Instead he uses his leverage to thrust harder, deeper.

Rick gets lost in the rhythm of it. Loves the way the man's hands touch him carefully.

Negan's 'No' edges in on the back of his mind, plays in his head.

_If I had been would you...would you still...?_

**_No._ **

It feels too easy to lie. And Rick wouldn't have - if he was only assuaging Negan, but he doesn't quite know the truth himself. Thinks maybe things haven't actually gotten as far out of control as they feel.

Ron is just a boy who's father he'd killed, who's messed up and confused. But it's serious, Rick recognizes that now.

Though Rick thinks it's an overstatement to say he's _damaged_.

 

 

 

Rick finds it in himself to finally deal with it. He owes Jessie that much, even owes _Ron_ that much. Father Gabriel takes one look at him and finds them a quiet place to converse.

"Rick, I am a little surprised to see you back. Of course, it's always a pleasure."

Rick nods absentmindedly. Wonders how he's going to explain. There isn't a dignified way.

"Am I safe to assume this is about Ron?" Gabriel prompts.

"Yes." Rick means to say more but the words don't come out.

"He's doing fine Rick, he's come in a few times to talk about his father. We've talked about the inappropriateness of his actions. He says he's very sorry. I wanted to make him apologize in person, but I think that might be too rough on him."

Rick isn't sure how to spit it out, feels blindsided by Gabriel's amount of faith in the boy. Rick clears his throat.

"Actually, there was another incident."

Gabriel looks gobsmacked, learns forward, all concern.

"I see. That is...very unfortunate."

For a minute Rick wonders if that will be it, if that will be enough. But then Gabriel is turning his stern look on Rick.

"I'm waiting, Rick, when you're ready."

"It's just he - " Rick isn't sure he can say it.

"He hurt you again?" Gabriel asks, can already read the answer in Rick's face before he nods. He pales, "Did he... ejaculate on you again?"

Rick nods again and the confession of weakness feels uncomfortable. Nearly unbearable.

He clears his throat, rubs the back of his neck.

"Rick-" Gabriel begins but Rick cuts him off.

"There was...more this time. He-"

Gabriel keeps silent and not for the first time Rick is glad for the man's understanding.

"h-he...used his fingers." Rick's eyes flutter shut at the admission. "When he...then he used his f-fingers to...put it inside."

His words feel like a garbled mess, he wonders if he's making sense at all.

"Rick." Gabriel coaxes softly, gently lays a hand on his shoulder until Rick is forced to open his eyes. The man seems stunned, looks a little sick. There's a stark comprehension behind his eyes, twinning with horror.

Rick pulls away.

"Great. So, you can take care of it? I-I can't..."

"Rick." Gabriel says again, in that same calming tone. As if he's speaking to a skittish animal.

Rick can't explain what comes over him, he just wants _out_.

Gabriel is still calling after him when he sprints away.

 

 

 

It shouldn't matter, the incident in the field, especially now that Rick's gone further with Negan. Negan, who is a safehouse in a storm. Who holds him after his nightmares and strokes his hair. Who makes him breakfast and wraps his arms around him from behind.

 

 

 

Rick hears about the mess between Father Gabriel and Ron. Figures, at the very least, that at least now Jessie knows. Father Gabriel keeps trying to corner him but Rick is an expert at avoidance.

 

 

 

Rick should have known it wouldn't last. That Ron wouldn't just leave him alone. Rick's relieved Carl is there with him when Ron tries to ambush him and later he has to ask himself what's wrong with him. His first instinct had been to protect Carl and even though he'd ended up between them he can't help feeling he had been cowering behind his teenage son.

He shouldn't be so _scared_ of a teenage boy at all.

Ron isn't even a proper threat.

Carl doesn't notice or if he does he doesn't comment. Rick knows how pathetic he still is in his son's eyes.

And Enid. It isn't really a surprise, only Rick hadn't thought of it. The young woman is everything Rick could hope for for his son - sensible, smart, conscientious and a survivor.

And Rick had been hurt, a little, when Carl didn't want him to have supper with Enid. But then he'd just been amused.

 

 

 

Afterward he'd relayed the good news to Negan and got a chuckle.

"Well, we'll just have to have them over some night won't we?" Negan says and a picture of the five of them, sitting around the table - a warm meal - like a family flashes across Rick's mind.

Rick beams. Tries not to think about Ron or other things that make him twitch in discomfort.

He's gotten this far by appreciating the small things in life.

Rick thinks they might make love again that night, but Negan yawns and turns in early.

 

 

 

Father Gabriel finally finds him. Looks as startled at the fact as Rick feels.

"Don't run." he says. And Rick is going to, actually, but his next words stop him, "Or I'll tell Daryl."

The words sink into him, burn through him.

"Y-you can't do that."

"Rick. We really need to talk." Gabriel is stone faced and determined, even if he does look regretful.

"We did talk." Rick protests.

"Rick," Gabriel begins solemnly, "are you okay? I never asked. And I - are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm fine." Rick hopes that will be the end of the conversation but it isn't.

"You heard about Jessie?" Gabriel asks tiredly. Rick nods.

"She found out." Rick has been trying to avoid thinking about it.

"Some of it yes. She doesn't believe it Rick."

"And Ron?" Rick thought it'd be difficult to get the name out but it spills from his lips and doesn't sound any different. It's wrong, somehow.

Gabriel's eyes turned pained.

"I'm not a good judge of character. We both know that. I never for one moment thought it had gotten so - when you first came to me - well, suffice to say I never imagined the extent of what was possible. I never believed his intentions could be so... I failed you Rick."

"That's hardly the case Gabriel." Rick actually feels a twinge of guilt at the man's twisted expression, "Just...don't tell Daryl. Don't tell anybody."

"Why?" Gabriel asks and Rick thinks he should just _know_ why, "It's very possible he could try something again. In fact, I believe he will."

Rick doesn't quite know how to answer that, stalls.

"He still has a future, or don't you believe that?" Rick comes to the revelation as he says it - that _he_ believes it.

"Rick." Gabriel protests helplessly, but doesn't continue.

"I....I don't want anyone to know. Can't you understand that?"

"Rick, you're withdrawing. From the people around you, from your friends. And you're left alone with that monster all the time."

Negan. He means Negan. Rick protests hotly despite himself.

"Don't call him a monster."

"Isn't that what he is?" Gabriel asks, a little shocked.

"No. Negan's...he's not a monster."

"Rick, he thinks he _owns_ you. If you think news of his punishments haven't spre-"

"It's not like that." Rick cuts him off, sounds childish to his own ears.

Gabriel gives up, switches focus to the real issue.

"This situation with Ron isn't going to resolve itself."

It occurs to Rick, that as the one who killed Ron's father he should have been the one to speak with him.

"Should I maybe try talking to him?" He asks with a certain resignation. It's a wonder Rick hasn't had the idea before.

Gabriel doesn't like it.

"No. I forbid you to do that."

"Gabriel, you can't forbid me to do anything."

"Well I strongly advise against it. If you must, I insist you take me with you."

"Okay." Rick relents. Finds he's relieved that he has someone to stand beside him. Still, he finds the pity in Gabriel's gaze disturbs him.

 

 

 

After the third time, and Rick's been trying, he realizes maybe Negan doesn't feel the same way about Rick as Rick feels about him.

Rick had kissed him in the kitchen while they were doing dishes, and Negan had pushed him away, told him the water was getting cold.

The second time Rick had tried to join him in the shower, had began shedding his clothes only for Negan to pop his head out of the shower and tell him he wasn't sharing the hot water.

The third time is a hard no. It's the time when Rick gets the farthest. They're making out on the couch and clothes are starting to come off, and Negan is a little rough about it. He's distracted, not really looking at Rick's face.

It isn't love making. Rick tries to slow it down, to get it there and that's when Negan just shuts off. Tells him he has a headache.

He doesn't really touch Rick much after that.

Rick gets it. He's deciding if Rick is something he wants.

 

 

 

The worst thing happens on a Wednesday.

It shouldn't mean so much.

It means everything.

Rick realizes it doesn't matter how he got there because there he is.

Only he can't help that he thinks - if only he hadn't been out just then, if only he hadn't been in Alexandria, or if he'd just _known better_. He should have known better. Is shocked at his past self - at the fact he had planned to speak to the boy at some point.

"Oh fucking _perfect_ slut." Ron says, as if he doesn't know any more colorful language. "Could fuck you like this all day."

It hurts.

Rick feels like his soul has been shredded. The boy's not even inside him all the way yet.

" _Pl-Please stop._ " It's quiet, hardly more than a whisper but it causes Ron to pause.

Rick's bent over an old wooden work horse, naked from the waist down.

"Please?" Ron repeats.

For a second Rick thinks he has a chance. That his actions will make a difference.

" _Please._ " He chokes out.

"Why?" Ron asks, guilelessly.

" _I-I can't. Please just -_ " Rick's voice is hoarse.

"and why can't you?"

" _hurts. I-I -j-just can't-"_

"It's too big?" Ron asks, and Rick can _hear_ the frown on his face. Ron backs out minutely.

Rick nods, and he'd say anything _anything_ if it'd just get Ron off of him.

"It's too big?" Ron asks again, incredulously.

" _t-too big, it's too big. Please Ron -_ "

Ron slams all the way home then, without warning. Groans loudly. Rick makes a noise of his own.

Rick should have known better.

He can't see the boy but he can hear him. Hear every stuttering gasp and pleasured groan.

And he's done this before so why does he feel so _dirty_.

 

 

 

Afterward Rick doesn't know why he says it, why he asks. It only gives Ron power over him and the boy has too much already.

"Y-you're not going to tell Carl, are you?" Rick can hear the timidity and weakness in his own voice.

The boy pauses from where he's just finished dressing and stares at Rick. At that moment, he really does look like just a boy. And he'd looked _refreshed_ afterward but he doesn't now. Goes as tense as a bow.

"You're the one who brought family into it." Ron says, words breathlessly shocked and a little clipped. As if he can't believe what Rick's asked.

"Ron _please._ " Rick says, stern, feels gutted, like he's only playing an adult.

"You killed my dad." Ron chokes out, his face crumples like he didn't mean to say it.

The words sit for a moment between them. In the next moment Ron breaks into tears.

"I'm sorry." Rick doesn't know why he says it but he does, nearly chokes on his next words, "I thought I was doing something good."

Ron collapses to his knees then. Breathes fast and shallow. "Is that why?...." the boy wheezes, "Everyone knew he....but he's still...my dad."

Ron covers his eyes, cries into his sleeve and all Rick can see is Carl.

"I never thought I was doing something good." the boy gasps between tears.

 

 

 

Rick goes home that night. And that's it. Rick thinks that's finally it.

He wants to believe in redemption - for Ron, for himself. He wants to believe he'll be okay - that he isn't as ruined as he feels.

He feels like he can't shake it off. Like it's sunk into his skin, into his bones. It buzzes painfully in his head, in his heart.

But he should be happy because Negan - Negan chooses him. Decides Rick is something he wants.

Only - he sees him for what he really is then. Because _Rick_ tells him. Believes it has just become relevant. Thinks maybe they can get through it together.

It turns out when Negan was saying **_No_** Rick was hearing - _I'm making sure you're alright_ when what Negan really meant was _I don't want damaged goods._

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
